Don't Leave me Now
by HlcDec
Summary: TRIGGOR WARNING : Kurt is a grief councillor and offers to help his client after her son commits suicide. Kurt is looking through some of the kids stuff when he realises he isn't alone in the room. How is he supposed to cope with Blaine now he's dead?


Kurt entered the bedroom slowly. His eyes fixed on the solid wooden floor beneath his sock clad feet. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to look into a room crammed with personality. There was plenty of space and every inch had been used in one way or another.

In the centre of the room was a large wooden double bed with deep blue cotton sheets and a red and navy striped tie hung over oner corner. An ipod dock sat next to a six high pile of books on a sturdy wooden table. Kurt walked over to read the titles. The top book was 'To Kill a Mockingbird' with the last two Harry Potter books beneath it. Under these was 'The Catcher in the Rye' and 'The Bell Jar'. The bottom book didn't appear to have a title, Kurt thoughts it might be a journal or something. Kurt hoped the kids' music was a little more cheerful than his reading choices, he glanced across the room to where a computer sat next to a large CD rack. This seemed to be the music centre of the room.

A black keyboard covered in stickers was propped in the corner next to two guitars and a metal music stand which held several sheets of note paper covered in an untidy scrawl. Kurt noticed a Katy Perry CD right above a Billy Joel CD. He took in the contents of the CD rack, noticing the kid seemed to have very diverse taste when it came to music, everything from Broadway show tunes to classic rock. His attention was caught by a cork-board on the wall above the computer filled with photos, old movie tickets, a coffee cup sleeve and concert ticket stubs. Kurt read names as varied as Bruno Mars, Alice Cooper, Freelance Whales and Lady gaga; he smiled trying to imagine the boy from the photo happy at these concerts with his friends. He let his eyes travel over the photos of a group of boys all dressed in navy blue uniforms, in a few of the photos they were out of uniform, but always the same group.

Kurt wondered if any of these friends had noticed Blaine's depression, or was he just that good of an actor? A slightly ajar closet door caught Kurt's attention, he pulled it open slightly seeing rows of sweaters and different coloured shirts, all hung carefully in colour co–ordinated groups. A shelf hung over the top of the rails with a chequered curtain partially pulled across piles of magazines. Kurt pushed the curtain further across and saw that the stacks were Vogue back issues with a gaming magazine appearing every so often.

He was trying to reach the top Vogue when his foot nudged a pair of wing-tips causing him to look down. He bent to straighten the shoes, noticing as he did so a raised floorboard. Kurt paused in moving the shoes and glanced behind him slightly guiltily, he felt like he was prying, but Mrs Anderson had asked him to help her. He looked back to the board hooking his pale fingers underneath the rough wood and pulled it up carefully, setting it to one side. An unadorned brown cardboard box was nestled in a small cavity.

Kurt picked it up brushing some of the dust from the lid as he did so. He stood and carried it through into the bedroom setting it down on the desk. He pulled the swizzle chair out and sat in front of the box. He wasn't sure whether he should open it or not. On one hand this box obviously held private things that possibly Blaine's own parents didn't know about; however Kurt needed to know what was in there in case it turned out to be something his parents would want to keep. Kurt held his head, his elbows resting on the desk.

"What on earth am I supposed to do?" Kurt's question lingered on the air in the empty room. He sighed and massaged his temples, his eyes shut tight against the morning light drifting in the bay window.

"Open it if you want." Kurt's eyes snapped open and he searched the room for any sign of who said that. No – one. The room was as empty as it had been when he entered. He shook his head experimentally. _Oh good, now I'm hearing things_. He returned his attention to the box, glancing around the room once more before lifting the lid gingerly. He set it to the side and looked at the contents curiously. There was a small red and gold photo album partially hidden beneath a black hardback notebook which looked identical to the one on Blaine's bedside table. A cell phone lay on top of four or five white envelopes, all addressed to Blaine with no postal address or stamps. Kurt's attention went straight to the photo album, he stretched out his elegant fingers, holding it reverently. His throat felt very dry as he ran a thumb over the velvet cover. He was somewhat reluctant to open it. Blaine had clearly spent some money on this and taken the time to hide it.

"Open it." Kurt nearly cricked his neck he spun round so fast. Once again the room was empty. He placed the album on the desk and got to his feet checking outside the door, in the closet, under the bed. His brow furrowed in confusion when his search came up empty. He had definitely heard it that time. He stood for a minute his hands on his hips as if he expected someone to appear out of nowhere. His blue eyes found the album again and curiosity got the better of him. So he seated himself back at the desk and flipped the cover open. On the first page there was three lines of neat handwriting.

_This album belongs to Blaine Anderson_

_and Alex Parker_

_6/6/09 – 10/3/11_

The last line was written in blue ink rather than the black of the previous two. On the next page was a photo of Blaine and another boy with dark brown wavy hair that fell playfully into his chocolate coloured eyes. Both boys wore bright happy smiles, Blaine's arm was around Alex's shoulders. The photo looked spontaneous, youthful – nothing out of the ordinary. Kurt turned the page and saw more photos of Blaine and Alex. Some of them Blaine was studying with Alex sat close by, some were clearly outings. One in a bowling alley where it appeared Alex was chasing Blaine with a bowling ball held above his head. Kurt turned the page again and saw a picture clearly taken without the boys realization. They were sat down on a blanket on the grass, their hands intertwined between them, their foreheads pressed together. Both boys were looking directly into the others eyes. There was such an intensity between them. Serious expressions on their faces. Kurt tore his gaze away from the photo to look at the nest which was a close up of them both. Alex looked directly at the camera mid way through rolling his eyes as Blaine pressed a kiss to his cheek. Kurt finished looking through the photos, closing the album gently. He sat back to gather his thoughts for a minute. Blaine was gay. Not only was he gay, but he had a pretty serious relationship which ended a matter of months before he killed himself. And by the way the photos were hidden his family didn't know. Kurt closed his eyes, he leaned back in the chair listening to it creak against the silence of the house. His mind was whirring over all the details. Should he tell the parents? Would this upset them further? Why had Blaine needed to hide this part of him?

"You can look through the other stuff if you want." Kurt kept his eyes clamped shut, he was imagining the voice – stress of the job. Yes that was it. He would be fine just as long as he - .

"Really, it's not as if I can do anything with it now." Kurt's eyes snapped open and he swivelled round in his chair. Stood almost sheepishly near the door of the room was Blaine. No, a projection of Blaine. No, an imprint. It's official Kurt was losing his mind.

"You don't have to look so scared, I'm not going to hurt you." Blaine took a few steps toward Kurt, stopping when Kurt banged into the desk in his haste to move backwards.

"Okay, how about I stay over here. Really this is my room, but if it makes you comfortable I'll stay put." He took in Kurt's light blue eyes which were thrown wide as dinner plates, his eyebrows almost in his hairline. Kurt's hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white, it was all he could do not to flee the house.

"You're not real." Kurt cursed how shaky his voice sounded. Blaine just smiled a little sadly.

"Yeah that was my reaction at first too. Denial."

"No you're not real because that would mean I'm crazy and I'm far too young to go crazy." Blaine actually laughed at this and Kurt found himself smiling despite the fact that there was a ghost stood in front of him.

"You aren't crazy, I promise you." Blaine's voice was warm and honest and made Kurt relax a little. Kurt snorted.

"Says the ghost." He folded his hands in his lap attempting to regain a little of his composure.

"So if you're here why couldn't I see you before, I mean I assume it was you speaking before, otherwise I really am going crazy." Blaine shook his head.

"No it was me, I just had to make sure you were strong enough. You see if I had just appeared to you, there's no guarantee you'd have stayed around. This way I was pretty sure you wouldn't just run." He spread his hands simply as if to say that was that.

"I was pretty close to running out." Kurt admitted.

"Why didn't you?"

"I'm not sure. Something in your voice I guess."

"Alex used to say I had a nice voice." Blaine gestured to the photo album; Kurt turned around slowly. He glanced up at Blaine trying to gauge his expression. Blaine was looking into the box, his face unreadable, Kurt wondered how many years practise he'd had.

"Are you sure you want me to look at this stuff?" Blaine glanced between Kurt's eyes and the contents of the box.

"Yeah, someone's got to know the truth I guess, and for some reason I trust you."

Kurt took a deep breath and returned his attention to the box wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into.


End file.
